


...And All The Men And Women Merely Players

by afteriwake



Series: Molly Madness Month - March 2018 [16]
Category: Sherlock (TV)
Genre: Actor John Watson, Actress Janine, Actress Mary Morstan, Alternate Universe - Theatre, Director Sherlock Holmes, Divorced Sherlock Holmes/Molly Hooper, F/M, M/M, Other Additional Tags to Be Added, Past Sherlock Holmes/Molly Hooper, Producer Mycroft Holmes, Reconciliation, Theatre, University Sweethearts, Writer Molly Hooper
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2018-03-17
Updated: 2019-01-21
Packaged: 2019-04-01 10:47:59
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 7
Words: 6,820
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/13996644
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/afteriwake/pseuds/afteriwake
Summary: Mycroft Holmes is not-so-subtly trying to make sure there's a reconciliation between his youngest sibling Sherlock and his ex-wife, Molly Hooper, by forcing them to work together on a theatre project. But it isn't all smooth sailing when his and Sherlock's sister comes back from the States with a boyfriend who is the devil incarnate...and all hell is about to break loose.





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> So this is my 1,000th Sherlock fic! ::throws confetti:: It's modeled after another milestone fic I did that incorporate quotes from various Acron TV productions that are featured in the multiple show ads that run at the beginning of their DVDs; however, it only uses one of them, and that quote sets the tone of the fic. Each story in the "Quoteables" series will use one quote to start the fic, and while most quotes will be used as is, some are modified to fit into the Sherlock-verse, and the original quotes used in each chapter will be listed at the bottom of the chapter in the notes. Anyway, I hope you enjoy!

“All I want to do is direct King Lear,” Sherlock Holmes said as he entered the theatre with his brother. “You know that’s my dream. And yet you have me directing this...twaddle...instead.”

Mycroft Holmes clucked his tongue. “No need to disparage the play when the writer is in earshot,” he said.

“He is?” he asked, glowering slightly. “I have a few words for him.”

“ _She_ is, and you may want to hold off on those words until you actually _talk_ to her,” Mycroft said, the ghost of a smile on his face. Sherlock’s scowl grew deeper still. His meddling older brother could certainly be a prick, and this seemed to be one of those times. He was a man of notable intellect and shrewd business choices, but on the rare opportunities their endeavours crossed paths, Mycroft Reginald Holmes made sure to lord his position and stature over him.

 _Like I’m not a man of stature myself,_ Sherlock thought indignantly. The pair of them and their sister came from a prestigious acting family in England. While Mycroft had gone the business route instead, Sherlock had made a name for himself as a playwright and director of theatre across the country. The less said about their sister’s decision to go to Hollywood and make a name for herself in motion pictures in Los Angeles the better, but their parents were pleased enough with their eldest and youngest and their endeavours in theatre in the United Kingdom. 

But this...this was not what he had wanted. He wanted Shakespeare! He didn’t want the avant-garde or... _whatever_ the bloody hell his brother was expecting for this production of some silly Victorian murder mystery. He was better than this! 

And he was going to prove it.

He was ready to make another scathing remark when he stopped dead in his tracks. Standing conversing with some of the potential actors was a woman who could very much bring him back from the dead with her words. He turned to his brother and looked at him with wide eyes. “You didn’t tell me Molly wrote this script,” he replied.

“Well, if you had _read_ it, you would have realized it wasn’t twaddle,” Mycroft said with a smirk. “I’ll lay money on the odds you only read...oh, we’ll say five pages in. Ten on the outside.”

“Three,” Sherlock mumbled, looking down at the script he had clutched in his hand. It had been a long time since he had seen Molly Hooper.

Or, as he used to call her, Molly Holmes.

Or even more bluntly...his wife.

“She insisted you direct it,” Mycroft said, his tone softening. “I think she may be considering a reconciliation.”

“Wasn’t she engaged to a Tom something or other?”

“That lasted as long as your relationship with Miss Hawkins and ended much more poorly,” Mycroft said.

“Janine and I weren’t a _thing_ ,” he said. “We only pretended to get her family off her back. They weren’t about to accept she’d gotten pregnant with a one night stand.”

Mycroft nodded. “I had assumed, but you know the gossip.”

“Yes, I do,” Sherlock said. It wasn’t often he made any show of kindness, but Janine had been a good friend who had helped in a pinch with a few productions and he felt he owed her. Having his name attached to her child for the rest of the life really had been no big deal for him, even though as far as the two of them were concerned he was a doting godfather and not _the_ father.

But he hoped, for any chance he had of salvaging anything with his ex-wife, Janine and Russell stayed in Sussex until this production was over.

Sherlock stared at Molly, taking her in. Her hair was short and ginger now, and her clothes were a bit less cutesy and a bit more professional, but the smile on her face and the crinkle at the sides of her eyes were still the same, all these years later. She had simply grown more lovely over time, and he...well, he supposed his reputation as an arsehole had shown that while he might be handsome, he had a heart of stone.

Of course, she had taken it with her when she walked away from their marriage, so there was that.

Mycroft cleared his throat as they got close and soon the brilliance of her smile was directed at him. “Sherlock,” she said. “You look good.”

“As do you,” he murmured. “I suppose you’ll be here for the auditions?”

“And to make any changes to the script you deem necessary,” she said. She tilted her head. “Is that alright?”

He nodded. “It’s fine.”

She frowned slightly, then swatted at Mycroft’s shoulder. “You didn’t tell him, did you?” she asked.

“If he had simply glanced at the first page of the script he would have known,” Mycroft said. 

“We both know he doesn’t give a rat’s arse who writes a script when it’s not his,” she said, glaring at him. Then she turned back to Sherlock. “Are you sure it’s alright if I stay?”

“It’s honestly fine,” Sherlock said. “I trust your judgment.”

“Okay,” she said, her smile returning. “Then we should get to work, shouldn’t we?”

“We should,” he said with a nod. She turned back to the actors who she was talking to and led them towards the front of the theatre. Sherlock turned to his brother, his glower fully returned. “I will make you pay.”

“At least wait and see what the condition of your relationship with Molly is like at the end of the production,” Mycroft said with an enigmatic smile. Sherlock pushed past him, heading towards the front of the theatre. This was not what he had hoped for when he’d been bullied into helming this production, but perhaps some good could come of it in the end.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> **QUOTES USED IN THIS CHAPTER:**
> 
> “All I want to do is direct King Lear.” ( _Slings & Arrows_)


	2. Chapter 2

It took hours to get through the assembled actors, and Sherlock honestly didn’t have much hope this casting call was going to bear any real fruit. There were a few people he would use for the smaller parts, and even more for non-speaking background, but no one with star potential. They took a short break a noon for lunch and Mycroft, damn him, scurried away, saying he was meeting Gregory at Sketch for a business lunch.

Sherlock highly doubted that, as his brother always said he wanted what was best for him and, much to his dismay, had insisted Margaret Anne Hooper had been the best thing to ever come into his life.

Though, it was more his dismay that his brother was right that rankled at him than anything else.

They had both gone to Oxford for various other courses of study than where their passions lay, and it was in a chemistry class that they met. They were seated at the same table for their lab work and it was their pointed commentary on the inability of their professor to teach that they bonded over.

That had been their first year in uni. By the time they were able to leave the dorms and reside in Oxford proper, they were in a committed relationship. He proposed before they graduated, and as soon as they were officially university graduates they had gone on a trip around Europe and gotten married in Paris.

But things never went the way he expected them to, not in any aspect of his life, and he shouldn’t have expected marriage to be any different. 

But that was the past. And he wasn’t about to dredge that up _now_ , not when they had work to discuss. She got two coffees from the coffee bar backstage and brought a cup over to him. “Two sugars still?”

He nodded. “Yes. Thank you.” He took a sip. The coffee was bitter even with the sugar but that was no fault of Molly’s. It had sat in the pot for far too long, it seemed. Either that or it had been poorly made and congealed into an inedible sludge. He saw she shared the same opinion when she made a face after taking a sip of her own coffee. “Why don’t we go to Pret A Manger?” 

“Your treat?” she asked with a smile.

“Of course,” he said with a nod. They stood up and made their way towards the back of the theatre, relieving themselves of the cups as soon as possible. Once outside, Molly pulled the coat she had brought around her. “Cold?”

She nodded. “It’s been a while since I’ve been in London.”

“You were in New York?”

“I was,” she said. “I’m used to summers being indecently hot, not...this.”

“I’m sure it will all come back to you,” he said, giving her a small smile. 

“I’m sure it will, too,” she said with a smile of her own. “How is your...son?”

Sherlock nearly stopped in his tracks. He hadn’t even thought of explaining the situation with Janine and Russell to her. No one knew the truth aside from himself and Janine, though now he knew his brother had guessed. But he nodded a bit as he answered. “Russell is thriving with his mother in Sussex. I see him as frequently as I can.” There. Not a lie in the slightest, but not the truth, either.

“I see,” she said. “That’s good. Sussex is a lovely place.”

“It is,” he said. He groped for what else to say. “Why did you leave New York?”

“I suppose you know I was engaged?” she asked, looking over at him. He nodded. “My fiance decided he wanted to move to Los Angeles without telling me. He just assumed I’d give up on trying to write Broadway plays and travel with him. It was a rather nasty surprise when I said I was staying in New York. So he badmouthed me to nearly everyone who was anyone on the theatre circuit in New York. He didn’t have a tonne of clout, but he had enough that most people wanted nothing to do with me. Thankfully, not everyone.”

“You mean my brother?” he asked.

She chuckled. “Actually, Phillipa Soo. I had worked with her on a project after she left Hamilton and she recommended me to a few friends of hers, and I did some non-script jobs for a while to keep myself afloat. But then, yes, your brother asked me if there was anything I’d love to write and I decided on a Victorian murder mystery around the story of Emilia Ricoletti.”

“So this is actually based in truth?” he asked, lifting up his script which he was holding.

She nodded, her chuckle becoming deeper. “You really didn’t read far into it, did you?”

“Three pages,” he mumbled.

“Oh, Mycroft had to twist your arm to do this, didn’t he?”

“I’m rather stuck in my own work at the moment,” he said. “My reputation took a bit of a hit after...”

“Ah,” she said. “What are you working on?”

“A modern re-imagining of King Lear,” he said. “I’m hoping to direct it myself at some point.”

“I could look it over if you want?” she asked.

He nodded. “I would like that very much,” he replied. They got to the restaurant and he stopped for a moment. “Is this...is this going to be awkward?”

She shook her head. “I wouldn’t have asked for you specifically if I’d thought it would be difficult,” she said. “And I suppose I’ve missed you, a bit.”

“I’ve missed you too,” he said quietly.

“Then let’s see where this leads, and who knows? Maybe it will lead to something...good,” she said with a smile before opening the door and heading inside. Well, this had gone much much better than he ever could have possibly expected to...so far. But he knew tonight there needed to be a phone call to Janine so he could figure out how to handle the delicate situation that was their falsehood.


	3. Chapter 3

There was another round of actors that came in after lunch but no one with star power, no one with the presence that was needed to make the production a hit. There would be another round of auditions in the morning, but for now, it was time to take a break and go home.

Home. Such a dismal place, really. Exquisitely decorated and full of awards and accolades, but empty in most areas where it should truly be a home. All except a scant few, such as the room Janine favoured when she came to visit, and the room he had set aside for Russell as his place, whenever he was there. It would stay his into adulthood, should he want it.

He was in there, sitting in the rocking chair, holding the bear that he had bought for his godson the last time he was there. Or at least one of the bears; Russell had been so enamoured with his “beh beh” from his godfather that he and Janine had decided to buy a second one to leave at Sherlock’s home when he took the other to Sussex. If nothing else, should Russell ever lose one of them, there would be a suitable replacement.

This was a predicament, to say the least. While he cared for Janine, even loved her in a completely platonic way, it had never and would never measure the depth of his feelings for Molly. When she had left, she really had taken most f his heart with her. He had never planned on getting into any new relationships, much less falling in love with anyone, and now? Well, now he was stuck in a well-intentioned lie.

Almost as if brought about by the need to have intrusion on his thoughts his mobile rang. He half-expected it to be Janine, as if his thoughts of her would summon her presence into his life again, but it was his mother. He answered, though rather reluctantly. “Yes, Mummy?”

“Is my grandson still coming for a visit next weekend?” she asked. So, it appeared Mycroft was keeping the truth of the matter close to the vest. Perhaps there was not fratricide in his future after all.

“Yes, I’m supposed to take care of Russell next weekend,” he said. “Janine was looking at a limited engagement in Brighton to put her costuming skills to work, so she’ll be running back and forth if they want to use her and I’ll have Russell more often, but this weekend would be the first.”

“Don’t bring him here.”

This was curious. Whether his parents had guessed the truth much as Mycroft had, he had the feeling Russell would always be considered their grandson. There was a room for Russell at his parents’ home just as there was this very room he was in now. Sherlock sat up more in the rocking chair. “What’s going on?”

“We have a visitor, and she brought company.”

 _Eurus_. That explained it. She had shown no desire to acknowledge her nephew at his birth or have any interactions with him, and she was not the type of person you wanted to have influence future generations if you could help it. Or at least that was how he had felt, and apparently, his mother agreed. “That British bad boy she’s dating?”

“That’s an understatement,” his mother said with a sigh. “I doubt he does any real acting where he isn’t a villain, and even then I doubt it’s a stretch.”

“Have Mycroft put her up at a low-end hotel,” Sherlock said.

His mother scoffed. “But she’ll only want the best! That’s how she is.”

“Fine. _I’ll_ put her and the trash up in a low-end hotel, and if they don’t like it, Mycroft can be the big bad brother this time.” He sank back into his chair. “Speaking of Mycroft, did he tell you Molly is back in London? And he’s producing her newest play?”

“He might have mentioned that,” his mother said, and Sherlock swore he could hear the smirk in her voice.

“You’re a horrid mother for not giving me any warning,” he grumbled.

“Well, you were the one who placed work above your wife,” his mother pointed out. “Molly is a genius in her own right and she wasn’t going to stay under your ever-reaching shadow forever. But you’ve both grown, I believe or at least you have. Fatherhood has suited you.”

“I suppose it has,” he mused. “Do you think it will scare her away again?”

“With as large as your heart is, dear, there’s plenty of room for Molly and your other family. And us, of course.”

“Of course.”

“If you’ll put Eurus and _Jim_ up somewhere where they won’t complain I’ll do all I can to keep her out of your hair.”

Sherlock sighed. “Alright. But I get to plead out of at least one family dinner as long as she’s in town.”

“As long as you promise to bring either the grandson or the wife to the next one after she leaves.”

“Ex-wife, Mum. _Ex_ -wife.”

“Mmm, perhaps not for long.”

“Goodnight, Mum,” Sherlock said, a small smile crossing his face.

“Goodnight, dear,” his mother replied before hanging up. He had arrangements to make but now he had a definite reason to tell Janine to stay away from London. His sister was bad news, but her boyfriend was worse, and the less in his business with Janine and Molly the two of them were, the better.


	4. Chapter 4

He woke up in the morning to get ready to go to the second day of auditions to the sound of a key being used on his front door. He grabbed the first thing in hand in the sitting area, an Olivier, and prepared himself to toss at his intruder.

“Really, Sherlock, you should change the locks when your sister is in town,” his best friend said as he came into the foyer. “You know that degenerate boyfriend of hers has, at the very least, taught her to pick locks while he goes snooping for blackmail.”

Sherlock relaxed and set the award back on the mantle. John would probably be among one of the first to know of the arrival in London of Eurus Holmes because his mum considered John her third son by all accounts. If Eurus was there to cause trouble and he had gotten a call about it, John would as well. “You almost ended up having my Olivier embedded in your head,” he said, going back to fixing his cuffs on his dress shirt.

“Eh, they’d wipe the blood and brain matter off or replace it with another one next year,” John said with a chuckle. “Really, though. A deadbolt would be an asset. Better alarm system. Alarms on the windows?”

Sherlock raised an eyebrow. “Really, John?”

“Look, you don’t know what kind of dirt the arsehole wants. If he thinks he can blackmail you or Mikey into giving him a role...”

“It’s not as though I still live in the apartment anymore,” he said. Though he had more than enough money to support himself, he had moved into the upstairs portion of his old dramatics teacher’s home, since she had been treated poorly by the school which had employed her. She had given him full run of the topmost floor to do with what he pleased, and he, in turn, had fixed up the downstairs portion and the adjoining sandwich shop that she ran when he had found out she was on hard times. Speedy’s now made quite a bit of money and only a select few knew he resided at 221B Baker Street, but it was well worth it.

He remembered his mother’s words the night before and allowed himself a ghost of a smile. Large heart indeed.

“With the trouble those two usually cause, yes, I’d consider it prudent even if you don’t live in yours and Molly’s apartment anymore,” he said, and then a slow, sly grin spread across his face. “How is the missus, anyway?”

“Still perfect,” Sherlock grumbled. “And deserving far better than me and _vastly_ more than the arse she was engaged to in New York.”

The slyness melted off John’s face. “You know...you do have a rather large heart, all things considered,” he said. “Let her in on the truth for once.”

Sherlock groaned. “How did you find out?”

John put his hands up in a defensive gesture. “Oh come off it. Russell being your son? I know you’re fond of Janine but I don’t care how shitfaced you may get, you’d never shag her. She’s more...little sister than lover.”

“Keep that to yourself, especially considering who’s in town,” Sherlock said, sweeping by his friend to go get a cup of coffee. “Does my mum have any idea?”

“Doubtful. I think Mycroft does--”

“He knows,” Sherlock interjected.

“Well, then that probably means Greg does. But I think that’s all.” John moved into the kitchen with Sherlock. “It’s going to come out, eventually. That he’s not yours.”

“There’s no need for that to ever happen,” Sherlock countered. “We can take Russell aside and tell him the truth when he’s an adult, but hopefully by then he’ll look at me as his father and it won’t matter who the biological bastard is.” He roughly pulled the pot from the carafe and coffee sloshed up the sides. “It was abandonment. He seduced her, shagged her and scurried off without even giving his real name or telephone number. And you know Janine. She’s Catholic. Abortion was never going to be an option, and admitting to her family she’d had sex with a stranger? They just barely tolerated sex outside of marriage with _me_ when I proposed to her.”

“Yet you didn’t get married,” John pointed out, literally pointing to the ring on his finger. “You never stopped wearing that, either.”

“Her choice,” he said. “I could come off as an arse in the entire situation, pay her a hefty sum in child support and still get to see Russell while she got some relative freedom. There’s a man in Sussex courting her and it seems to have worked out quite well. Should he be a good match and want to adopt Russell, I’ll make sure they have my blessing. Legally, I mean. And I’ll help support Russell, though discretely.”

“So what is he really to you?” John asked as Sherlock poured two cups of coffee.

“Godson. Unofficially, of course.”

“Of course,” John said with a nod. “The bloke she fancies is going to find out.”

“If it comes out to the general public after their marriage, I don’t suppose the harm will be too bad. It’s only if it comes out _now_ that it would be disastrous.” He pushed one mug of coffee to John and then went for the sugar for his. “So keep this newfound information to yourself. Janine doesn’t need trouble.”

“And neither do you,” John said, clapping him on the shoulder before picking up his coffee. “Tell Molly the truth.”

Sherlock glared at his friend, but damn it all, he made mental notes to improve the security here, at the shop and at Janine’s as well as to figure out how to tell the only woman he’d ever truly loved that the very thing he needed kept a secret was, in fact, a lie. 

The only problem was...would she keep it to herself?


	5. Chapter 5

He wasn’t at all surprised when John insisted on joining him at the auditions. If it hadn’t been for him, really, there would have been no Mr. & Mrs. Holmes to speak of, as in university he’d been completely blind to the fact Molly fancied him, and it had been John’s intervention that had led to their first date. If Molly would be happy to see anyone else from her past, it would be John.

And all things considered, with the crap quality of actors they had auditioning for roles so far, it wouldn’t hurt if John was around to give his opinion or, perhaps, ask for a role himself.

They made it to the theatre to find Molly waiting, chatting with a moderately attractive blonde with curly hair. They seemed to know each other well enough that this was not their first meeting, and as the two men got closer Molly and her friend shared a laugh until Molly noticed them. “John!” she said happily, moving away from the woman to give her old friend a hug.

“Molly,” he said warmly, giving her an embrace back. “New York just made you more lovely, it seems.”

“No flirting,” Molly admonished with a smile on her face. She let go and then gestured to the woman. “With me, at least. I was hoping you’d come by our auditions eventually. This is another expat friend of mine I found in New York, Mary Morstan. She’s a musician and actress. Did a lot of off-Broadway musicals.”

“Did you now,” John asked. “Any I may have heard of?”

“Probably not,” Mary said with a smile. “Lots of low rent theatres, small crowds. I did a showcase from Bonnie & Clyde after the production wrapped, though. That was well attended.”

John’s eyes widened. “Were you a ginger when you did it?”

Mary nodded. “Yeah. And my hair was longer.”

“I saw that! You have a lovely voice. You put Laura Osnes to shame.”

“You’re a fan?” she asked, surprised.

John finished letting go of Molly and turned fully to Mary. “Oh yeah. I do musicals too, mostly, with small bits in dramas when I can get them. I wasn’t planning on auditioning, but if you are, maybe I’ll give it a go too.”

Sherlock moved over towards Molly, who had a smile on her face. “Matchmaking?”

“Mary is a sweetheart. She deserves a nice bloke, and John is nice. We both know that.” She looked and saw Sherlock was holding two coffees. “Is one of those for me?”

He nodded and handed it to her. “I’ll let us all in and we can watch them flirt from a few rows back,” he said, digging his keys out as soon as she took her coffee. He unlocked the doors to the theatre and the four of them trooped in, John and Mary completely oblivious to the other two. They sat in the first row of seat and Sherlock and Molly sat four rows back.

“Reminds me of us when you finally realized I was worth talking to,” Molly said, taking a sip of her coffee. “We didn’t realize there was anyone else in the world, and that was just when we were friends.”

“Yeah,” he said with a nod, settling in next to her. “I miss those days.”

“I do too.” She moved her hand and brushed her fingers over his wedding band on his finger. “You haven’t let it get far from your mind.” 

He was quiet for a moment, focusing on the electric feeling her simple gesture had given him when her fingers touched his skin. All these years later and there was still almost a literal spark between them. “I was selfish,” he said softly. “I took what I wanted in my career and let us fall to the wayside. It was only after you left I realized the enormity of what I had lost.”

“I think we needed it, though. We needed to grow as individuals and if we were together, we wouldn’t have done that.” She paused, and hesitantly threaded her fingers through his to hold his hand. “Doesn’t mean we can’t try again.”

“You do still love me?” he asked.

She nodded. “I do. I never really stopped.”

He squeezed her hand. “Neither did I.” She gave him a bright smile. “Would you do me the pleasure of joining me for dinner? I’ll cook.”

“Can you make the cabbage and rice rolls Mrs. Hudson taught you how to make?”

He nodded. “I think I can. If not, she can come upstairs and make them instead and I’ll focus on dessert.”

Her smile got wider. “So you actually moved into the flat? I was wondering where you were since the apartment was empty.”

“I have most of the building to myself, she has the lower portion, and Speedy’s, too. It was left to her when the owner died. I updated everything, of course, modernized it, but it’s always been a home away from home. Now it is more a home. Just not...you know.”

“Not _really_ a home,” she said. He pulled their joined hands up and kissed the back of her hand as he nodded. Yes, she understood. But hopefully, if this worked out and she decided to stay and they patched up the remnants of their marriage and built something stronger, hopefully it truly would be a home...for both of them.


	6. Chapter 6

He had arrived back to Baker Street to find the door unlocked. Remembering what John had said about his sister he entered cautiously until he heard a familiar Irish accent cooing in Russell’s bedroom and he relaxed a bit. It was just Janine, who had her own key to the place, but still. This could pose problems with Molly coming over.

“Janine?” he called out before entering the room. He didn’t want to give her a start if she was holding Russell.

“I have an enormous favor to ask,” she said, turning around. “I need to travel to Scotland to look at some bolts of fabric for the Brighton engagement and Lionel suggested we spend a few days there. I think he’s going to propose.”

“Really?” Sherlock said, giving her a smile despite his worry. He reached over and embraced her, being careful not to disturb her hold on Russell. “Congratulations, Janine. I’m happy for you both.”

“Yes, well, that’s if he _does_. But I want to tell him the truth. So I suppose it’s a two-fold favor. I want to know if it will make things complicated if he knows and could you please take Russell early?”

“I will gladly take my godson early if you don’t mind him going to auditions with his godfather,” he said. “Or you know my mother would gladly take more time with him.”

“Oh, that’d be a treat,” Janine said with a smile. “She spoils him rotten and he loves every minute of it.”

“As for telling Lionel, you have my blessing if I may have yours. Molly is back in town and she wants to reconcile, even with all things considered. But I want her to know that there was nothing between us.” He reached over and brushed Russel’s hair off his forehead. “So there’s a fresh start and all.”

“Well, I say good for you. You’ve been mooning over her ever since the divorce,” Janine said. “Tell her. I mean, find a good time but by all means, tell her.” She leaned over and kissed his cheek. “You do what you can to help even though you claim to be a misanthrope. Be happy yourself for a change.”

“I will.” He took Russell from her and smiled down at his godson. “I think we can have a good time while Mummy is off working and hopefully making sure you have a good daddy in your future, yeah.”

“You have been a good father, even if you aren’t biologically his,” Janine said. “And you’ll be a good father to any little ones you and Molly may have if you’re so blessed.” The two of them watched as Sherlock set Russell in his crib and once he was settled they left his room, turning the nightlight on before they left. 

Janine went for her coat and put it and her scarf on. “Did you want me to keep him through till next weekend even if you come back early?” Sherlock asked.

“If you want to,” she said. “If it’s too much of an inconvenience I can take him back and then bring him back for his visit with your mum.”

“I’d like him here. I get the feeling I’ll see him less and less once you and Lionel get married.”

“Oh, Sherlock.” She came up and caressed his face gently. “I’d never keep him from you, no matter if Lionel adopts him or not. You’re attached and he’ll just have to accept it if he wants to marry me. You’re part of the package.”

“That’s good to know,” Sherlock said as there was a knock at the door. He went and opened it, seeing Molly there with a bottle of wine. “Oh.”

“Is something wrong?” Molly asked before she looked behind him and caught sight of Janine. “ _Oh._ ”

“I’m leaving right now,” Janine said. “I’ll check on Russell later by phone.”

Sherlock nodded and Janine brushed by the both of them to leave, and after a brief moment, he moved to let Molly in. “It was...something came up. But I still want to have dinner.”

“That was the mum?” she asked.

Sherlock nodded. “Janine Hawkins. Russell is in his bedroom, asleep. I’ll...introduce you later, if you’d like.”

“Alright,” she said. The mood seemed dimmed as Sherlock shut the door behind Molly, but as much as his heart wanted what his heart wanted, he had made a promise to Janine and he intended to keep it, even if he lost what he wanted most.


	7. Chapter 7

Dinner had been only the tiniest bit awkward, and it didn’t help that there was suddenly a space between the two of them he wasn’t sure he could fill without divulging secrets that didn’t belong to him. But he had to tell her. She had to know. And Janine had given her blessing, so there was that.

He went and got the crème Brulee from the oven and brought one to Molly. She looked up with a smile. “You remembered!”

“No matter how little money we had, there were always the ingredients for crème Brulee around,” he said. “I swear it’s the only confection I can make without destroying an oven.”

She picked up her spoon and took a bite, a small moan escaping her lips. “Score one for the oven tonight.”

He took his own dessert to his seat and watched her eat for a moment. “I need to tell you something,” he said when she was halfway done.

She lowered the spoon to the table and then folded her hands into her lap. “Alright,” she said quietly.

He paused for a moment and then got up to get more wine. Wine would help. “I am...rather close with Janine Hawkins. But our relationship has never what it has seemed. We are friends, nothing more, and we have been since I started to make a name for myself in London. A few years back, there was an actor who was working his way through all the ingenues and young starlets. Janine was one of his targets..”

Molly’s eyes widened when he looked at her. “You mean that…?”

“It was one night. Janine had more wine than she usually allows herself and she was having a wonderful time being flattered by him. He decided not to use protection and she didn’t protest. But one time was enough. She found out she was pregnant a week after he disappeared into thin air, having given her a fake name and fake mobile number. She wanted to keep the baby but needed a relationship to cover her indiscretion. I volunteered to take it so far as leaving her at the altar if need be.”

“And you being named Russell’s father,” Molly said.

Sherlock nodded. “I pay child support, and I let her take me to court to ensure it was a spectacle. But in reality, it’s merely money to help my friend raise her child in peace and quiet.”

“So let me understand this,” Molly said slowly as Sherlock poured her wine as well. “Janine is not an ex-flame. Russell is not your son.”

“Correct,” Sherlock said.

“Russell’s _actual_ father is someone who seduced Janine and then ran off?”

“And now Janine has the potential of marrying a man who loves Russell as much as I do, and she’s telling him the same thing I just told you,” he said with a nod as he handed her his glass. “Tonight, hopefully.”

Molly took a long swallow of the wine. “But you don’t…?”

“I only ever wanted a family with you,” he said quietly. “Janine’s parents are very conservative, but not so much that they mind an unwed woman who was abandoned by the father of the child so long as they were contemplating marriage. So when she found out she was pregnant she begged me to put my acting skills to use and convince her family I would do right by her and then call off the wedding. But truth be told, I couldn’t completely pull off the abandonment part.”

“You aren’t in love with her, are you?”

“No,” he said. “But I am head over heels for my godson. Have been since I heard his heartbeat for the first time.” He watched Molly relax. “Would it have really made a difference if Russell was mine?”

“I don’t know,” she admitted. “I mean, you and I...and the miscarriage..and then to hear you had a child, I’ll admit it was a blow. But I still loved you. I was just in so much pain.”

“Well, you do realize this is a lie you’ll have to be a part of if there’s a reconciliation,” he replied. “But I think you’ll make a wonderful stepmother for a start, and then...we’ll see.”

Molly gave him a smile, something fond and soft. “You wanted a family so badly, Sherlock. If I can’t give you one, will it matter?”

“There’s foster care, adoption, surrogacy...if there’s anything at all we can do we’ll do it together, as we should have before,” he said, setting his glass down and reaching for her hand, lacing his fingers between hers. He was surprised to see she still wore the birthstone ring he had given her, and he made a note to himself should he ever be lucky enough to marry her again, she’d get new rings. Better than the nearly microscopic diamond solitaire he’d managed to scrape together the money for, but nothing gaudy. Just something that was truly her.

She ran her finger against his wedding band and looked up at him. “Sherlock?”

“Yes?” he asked.

“I don’t have to go home tonight,” she said.

After a moment he stepped closer as she stood from her seat and he let go of her hand, pulling her into a loose embrace. He looked down at her and saw nothing but a shining love in her eyes. “Then don’t leave my side until we have to go to the theatre tomorrow,” he murmured. “And let me show you how much I missed you.”

“I would like that,” she said before raising up on her toes and kissing him softly. For the first time since she had left all those years ago, he felt whole again, as though the space in him was finally filled. She fit against him as he pulled her closer as if she was the last remaining piece to a puzzle and he didn’t want to let her go, but a shag on the floor of the dining area was not in the picture tonight. No, he wanted to lavish her with attention and make her realize she was, had been, and always would be the woman who owned his heart.

The cry of a child interrupted his plans, and Molly let out a soft chuckle. “Your godson?”

“Let me introduce you properly,” he said, pulling back and taking her hand, leading her to Russell’s room. He opened the door and saw Russell in his crib, standing up and crying in the dim night of the nightlight. He turned on the main light and Russell’s cries softened. “You aren’t alone, and we’ll see if you need your nappy changed or need a meal.”

“He’s gorgeous,” Molly said softly, watching them.

“His mother is very pretty, so I like to say he got his good looks from her and not the bastard,” Sherlock said. “Molly, this is Russell Hawkins, my godson, and your potential fake stepson should we actually get to that point again.”

Russell gave her a toothy grin and Molly reached over with a smile, letting him grasp her finger. “He’s adorable, too.”

“Yes, he is. We joke that he definitely did not get my personality.” He turned to her. “I’ll understand if you want to go back tot he apartment tonight. He sleeps well, but there are moments.”

“No,” Molly said, shaking her head before looking at him. “I’m right where I want to be.”

Sherlock felt his heart swell with those words and then he turned his attention to Russell and his needs. This boded well for things in the future...


End file.
